


Out Alive

by orphan_account



Category: Smosh, Smoshernatural, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, smoshernatural - Freeform, violence tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1853446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Anthony's lives are turned upside down when somewhere, someone named Sam Winchester releases Lucifer and starts the Apocalypse. When demons arrive in their city to celebrate, the boys' daily routine goes from filming and editing to scrounging for weapons and food. They have no idea what to make of the chaos breaking out around them, but they do their best to stick together and avoid the monsters at all costs. They don't do so well until two strange men with a black Chevy Impala show up in their neighborhood.<br/>Takes place around 2010/2011 for Smosh, Season 6 for Supernatural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Alive

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover fic between Smosh and Supernatural that I wrote forever ago and never got around to finishing. I may or may not continue the story depending on whether people enjoy it. There's not much to it; it's just a fun little drabble at this point!

Two hours and twenty minutes.

That’s how long Ian had been gone.

He had left two hours and twenty minutes ago to find some food and rush back. He’d told Anthony that if he couldn’t find anything after half an hour, he’d give up and come home. It had been too long and Anthony was done waiting.

Something like this wouldn’t normally be a big deal. Ian would go out, Anthony would sit at home editing, and neither of them would think anything of it. That, obviously, was before those _things_ came into town. The things that killed for fun, the clouds of thick black smoke that forced their way down people’s throats and used them to murder, or popped them like cherries from the inside, or forced their legs to climb up high buildings and jump off of them.

Anthony refused to refer to them the same way everyone else decided to – as “demons”. These things weren’t human, but they weren’t little devils that had crawled out of hell to poke people with pitchforks either. There was no God, there was no Satan, and there were no _demons_. There were hideous monstrosities, though, and they had been wreaking havoc for weeks now.

Stuffing his feet into his sneakers, Anthony looked down at his phone. Still no reply from Ian. He sighed as he dropped the phone back into his sweatshirt pocket and opened the door to the garage, locking it behind him. He got into his car, checking to make sure he had a weapon or two in the glove compartment. His rusted butterfly knife and a hand pistol borrowed from Ian weren’t much, but he figured it had to be better than nothing. Anthony checked to make sure the pistol was loaded, then closed his eyes and breathed for a moment before leaving. He sat, inhaled, exhaled, held the remote to the garage door tight, silently hoping for his phone to vibrate in his pocket.

Nothing.

He opened his eyes and swallowed, clicking the button on the remote. The garage door pulled up slowly with a loud clanging.  He started the car and backed out, making sure to close the garage behind him. His knuckles were white from clutching the steering wheel so hard. He could hear his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. Regardless, he pulled out of the driveway and started down the road. Ian had mentioned something about trying the pizza place down the street, so Anthony started heading that way.

It looked nice outside; there were no clouds in sight and the sun shone down brightly on the California suburbs. It seemed like a completely normal day. Normal, aside from the eerie emptiness of the streets, the lawns, the sidewalks. Not a single person could be seen, nor a single movement from the windows of the homes Anthony passed. Glancing up at a tree he passed, he caught glimpse of some kind of… _meat_ hanging from a branch. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and continued down the road.

Anthony was just about to turn into the parking lot of the pizza place when a body landed on the hood of his car.

It came out of nowhere. He cursed, slamming the brakes and swerving off of the road into the grass. His heart had all but stopped for a moment and was now thrumming furiously in his chest. He took a moment to try and comprehend what had happened, eyes wide and chest heaving. Smoke was rising from the front of the car. A man lay across the dented hood, his back facing Anthony. It couldn’t be one of those things, right? Anthony was sure of it; it had to be someone who was attacked, which meant one of those monsters was nearby. He grabbed his gun and stuffed his knife into his pocket before getting out of the car.

He stepped towards the man cautiously, looking around for the attacker. No one appeared to be nearby. He looked at the man for a moment, who was now grumbling incoherently and attempting to pull himself up. Anthony helped him onto his feet, noting the blood trickling from his hairline and the scratches coating his face.

“My…My God,” Anthony managed to stutter, “Are- are you okay? How…What happened to you?” The man gave him an agitated glare.

“Don’t worry about me, Kid. Just doing my job,” the man grumbled before brushing past Anthony, not making eye contact.

Anthony turned around, brow furrowed. “What? What are you –” he attempted to say, cut off by shock when a man came out of nowhere, tackling the bloodied man to the ground. Assuming it was someone possessed by one of those _things_ , Anthony held up his gun and felt for the trigger before getting a good look at the thing and freezing, breathless. He blinked, arm still outstretched and hand shaking. He blinked a second time and then a third. The sight before him didn’t change.

_“…Ian?”_

Ian, or whatever was inside of him, looked up at Anthony. His blue eyes were now glazed over black voids. Anthony couldn’t move. He couldn’t shoot his best friend. He had no idea what to do.

 _“DEAN!”_ Anthony and whatever had stolen Ian’s body both turned to see a second man, taller and considerably less bloody than the other, running over, a knife gripped tightly in his hand.

Anthony’s heart stopped.


End file.
